Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
It's out there
Or maybe it's in here already
Waiting on a door handle
In a hello
In the air I breathe
I breathe
That is my right
I will breathe if I want to.
Except it doesn't know patience
It doesn't know anything
It doesn't have anything
But the need to exist
And if it kills me
Or itself, it will just shrug.
The worst kind of enemy.
So I take it back to a room
With curtains and a bed
I am allowed that much
And bread and water
Left by someone ouside my door
I hear their feet hurrying away
The world is moving away from me.
And all night and the next day
For as long as it takes
My hands will be around its throat
And its around mine
As we stare into each others' bulging eyes
Me, remembering life
It, trying to imagine survival
And suddenly it does know something
That I am all it's got.
And in the morning
Shapes file quietly into the room
And I start to recognize faces.
They prise my fingers away
From around the rotting corpse's neck
Then kick it under the bed
You did it, they say.
You won.
This time.
Written by
Christopher Elwell
77
     Carlo C Gomez
Please log in to view and add comments on poems